Oroonoko :: :: University of Virginia Library

Well.
Fie, fie, not me: I am her Husband you know:
She won't tell me what pains you have taken with her:
Besides, she takes you for me.

J. Stan.
That's true: I forgot you had marry'd her.
But if you knew all—

Well.
'Tis no matter for my knowing all: if she does—

J. Stan.

Ay, ay, she does know, and more than ever she knew
since she was a woman, for the time; I will be bold to say:
for I have done—

Well.

The Devil take you, you'll never have done.

J. Stan.

As old as she is, she has a wrincle behind more than
she had, I believe—

For I have taught her, what she never knew in her life before.

Well.

What care I what wrincles she has? or what you have
taught her? If you'll let me advise you, you may; if not, you
may prate on, and ruine the whole design.

J. Stan.

Well, well, I have done.

Well.

No body, but your Cozin, and you, and I, know any

thing of this matter. I have marry'd Mrs. Lackit; and put you
to bed to her, which she knows nothing of, to serve you: in
two or three days I'll bring it about so, to resign up my claim,
with her consent, quietly to you.

J. Stan.

But how will you do it?

Well.

That must be my business: in the mean time, if you
should make any noise, 'twill come to her Ears, and be impossible
to reconcile her.

J. Stan.

Nay, as for that, I know the way to reconcile her,
I warrant you.

Well.

But how will you get her Money? I am marry'd to her.

J. Stan.

That I don't know indeed.

Well.

You must leave it to me, you find, all the pains I shall
put you to, will be to be silent: you can hold your Tongue for
two or three days?

J. Stan.

Truly, not well, in a matter of this nature: I should
be very unwilling to lose the reputation of this nights work,
and the pleasure of telling.

Well.

You must mortifie that vanity a little: you will have
time enough to brag, and lie of your Manhood, when you have
her in a bare-fac'd condition to disprove you.

J. Stan.

Well, I'll try what I can do: the hopes of her Money
must do it.

Well.

You'll come at night again? 'tis your own business.

J. Stan.

But you have the credit on't.

Well.

'Twill be your own another day, as the Widow says.
Send your Cozin to me: I want his advise.

J. Stan.

I want to be recruited, I'm sure, a good Breakfast,
and to Bed: She has rock'd my Cradle sufficiently.

[Exit.
Well.

She wou'd have a Husband; and if all be, as he says,
she has no reason to complain: but there's no relying on what
the Men say upon these occasions: they have the benefit of their
bragging, by recommending their abilities to other Women:
theirs is a trading Estate, that lives upon credit, and increases
by removing it out of one Bank into another. Now poor Women
have not these opportunities: we must keep our stocks

dead by us, at home, to be ready for a purchase, when it comes,
a Husband, let him be never so dear, and be glad of him: or
venture our Fortunes abroad on such rotten security, that the
principal and interest, nay very often our persons are in danger.
If the Women wou'd agree (which they never will) to
call home their Effects, how many proper Gentlemen wou'd
sneak into another way of living, for want of being responsible
in this? then Husbands wou'd be cheaper. Here comes the
Widow, she'll tell truth: she'll not bear false Witness against
her own interest, I know.

[Enter Widow Lackit.]
Well.

Now, Mrs. Lackit.

Wid.

Well, well, Lackit, or what you will now; now I am
marry'd to you: I am very well pleas'd with what I have done,
I assure you.

Well.

And with what I have done too, I hope.

Wid.

Ah! Mr. Welldon! I say nothing, but you're a dear
Man, and I did not think it had been in you.

Well.

I have more in me than you imagine.

Wid.

No, no, you can't have more than I imagine: 'tis impossible
to have more: you have enough for any Woman, in
an honest way, that I will say for you.

Well.

Then I find you are satisfied.

Wid.

Satisfied! no indeed; I'm not to be satisfied, with
you or without you: to be satisfied, is to have enough of you;
now, 'tis a folly to lye: I shall never think I can have enough
of you. I shall be very fond of you: wou'd you have me
fond of you? What do you do to me, to make me love you so
well?

Well.

Can't you tell what?

Wid.

Go; there's no speaking to you: you bring all the
Blood of ones body into ones face, so you do: why do you
talk so?

Well.

Why, how do I talk?

Wid:
You know how: but a little colour becomes me,
I believe: how do I look to day?

Well.
O! most lovingly, most amiably.

Wid.
Nay, this can't be long a secret, I find,
I shall discover it by my Countenance.

Well.
The Women will find you out, you look so cheerfully.

Wid.

But do I, do I really look so cheerfully, so amiably?
there's no such paint in the World as the natural glowing of a
Complexion. Let 'em find me out, if they please, poor Creatures,
I pity 'em: they envy me, I'm sure, and wou'd be glad
to mend their looks upon the same occasion. The young jil-flirting
Girls, forsooth, believe nobody must have a Husband,
but themselves; but I wou'd have 'em to know there are other
things to be taken care of, besides their green Sickness:

Well.

Ay, sure, or the Physicians wou'd have but little practise.

Wid.

Mr. Welldon, what must I call you: I must have some
pretty fond name or other for you: what shall I call you?

Well.

I thought you lik'd my own name.

Wid.

Yes, yes, I like it, but I must have a nick-name for
you: most Women have nick-names for their Husbands—

Well.
Cuckold.

Wid.
No, no, but 'tis very pretty before company;
It looks negligent, and is the fashion, you know.

Well.
To be negligent of their Husbands, it is indeed.

Wid.

Nay then, I won't be in the fashion; for I can never
be negligent of dear Mr. Welldon: and to convince you, here's
something to encourage you not to be negligent of me.

[Gives him a Purse and a little Casket.

Five hundred pounds in Gold in this; and Jewels to the value
of five hundred pounds more in this.

[Welldon opens the Casket.
Well.

Ay, marry, this will encourage me indeed.

Wid.

there are comforts in marrying an elderly Woman, Mr.
Welldon. Now a young Woman wou'd have fancy'd she had

paid you with her person, or had done you the favour.

Well.

What do you talk of young Women? you are as young
as any of'em, in every thing, but their folly and ignorance.

Wid.

And do you thing me so? but I have no reason to suspect
you. Was not I seen at your house this Morning, do you
think?

Well.
You may venture again: you'll come at night, I suppose.

Wid.
O dear! at night? so soon?

Well.
Nay, if you think it so soon.

Wid.
O! no, it is not for that Mr. Welldon, but—

Well.
You won't come then.

Wid.
Won't! I don't say, I won't: that is not a word for a Wife:
If you command me—

Well.
To please your self.

Wid.
I will come to please you.

Well.
To please your self, own it.

Wid.

Well, well, to please my self then, you're the strangest
Man in the world, nothing can scape you: you'll to the
bottom of every thing.

[Enter Daniel, Lucia following.]
Dan.

What wou'd you have? what do you follow me for?

Luc.

Why, may'nt I follow you? I must follow you now
all the World over.

Dan.

Hold you, hold you there: not so far by a mile or two;
I have enough of your Company already, byrlady; and something
to spare: you may go home to your Brother, an you
will, I have no farther to do with you.

Wid.

Why, Daniel, Child, thou art not out of thy wits sure,
art thou?

Dan.
Nay, marry, I don't know; but I am very near it, I believe:
I am alter'd for the worse mightily since you saw me;

And she has been the cause of it there.

Wid.
How so, Child?

Dan.

I told you before what wou'd come on't, of putting
me to bed to a strange Woman: but you wou'd not be said
nay.

Wid.

She is your Wife now, Child, you must love her.

Dan.

Why, so I did, at first.

Wid.

But you must love her always.

Dan.

Always! I lov'd her as long as I cou'd, Mother, and
as long as loving was good, I believe, for I find now I don't
care a fig for her.

Luc.

Why, you lubberly, slovenly, misbegotten Blockhead—

Wid.

Nay, Mistriss Lucy, say any thing else, and spare not:
but as to his begetting, that touches me, he is as honestly begotten,
tho' I say it, that he is the worse agen.

Luc.

I see all good nature is thrown away upon you—

Wid.

It was so with his Father before him: he takes after
him.

Luc.

And therefore I will use you, as you deserve, you
Tony.

Wid.

Indeed he deserves bad enough; but don't call him
out of his name, his name is Daniel, you know.

Dan.
She may call me Hermophrodite, if she will,
For I hardly know whether I'm a Boy or a Girl.

Well.
A Boy, I warrant thee, as long as thou liv'st.

Dan.
Let her call me what she pleases, Mother,
'Tis not her Tongue that I am afraid of.

Luc.
I will make such a Beast of thee, such a Cuckold!

Wid.
O, pray, no, I hope; do nothing rashly, Mrs. Lucy.

Luc.
Such a Cuckold will I make of thee!

Dan.

I had rather be a Cuckold, than what you wou'd make
of me in a week, I'm sure: I have no more Manhood left in me
already, than there is, saving the mark, in one of my Mothers
old under Petticoats here.

Wid.

Sirrah, Sirrah, meddle with your Wife's Petticoats,

and let your Mother's alone, you ungracious Bird, you.

[Beats him.
Dan.
Why is the Devil in the Woman? what have I said now?

Do you know, if you were ask'd, I trow? but you are all of
a bundle; ev'n hang together; he that unties you, makes a
Rod for his own tail; and so he will find it, that has any thing
to do with you.

Wid.

Ay, Rogue enough, you shall find it: I have a Rod for
your Tail still.

Dan.
No, Wife and I care not.

Wid.
I'll swinge you into better manners, you Booby.

[Beats him off, Exit.
Well.
You have consummated our project upon him.

Luc.
Nay, if I have a limb of the Fortune,
I care not who has the whole body of the Fool.

Well.
That you shall, and a large one, I promise you.

Luc.

Have you heard the news? they talk of an English Ship
in the River.

Well.

I have heard on't: and am preparing to receive it, as
fast as I can.

Luc.
There's something the matter too with the Slaves,
Some disturbance or other; I don't know what 'tis.

Well.
So much the better still:
We fish in troubled waters:
We shall have fewer Eyes upon us.
Pray, go you home, and be ready to assist me in your part of the design.

Luc.
I can't fail in mine.

[Exit
Well.
The Widow has furnish'd me, I thank her, to carry it on.
Now I have got a Wife, 'tis high time to think of getting a Husband.
I carry my fortune about me;
A thousand Pounds in Gold and Jewels.
Let me see—

'Twill be a considerable trust:
And I think, I shall lay it out to advantage.

[Enter Stanmore.]
Stan.

So Welldon, Jack has told me his success; and his hopes
of marrying the Widow by your means.

Well.
I have strain'd a point, Stanmore, upon your account,
To be serviceable to your Family.

Stan.
I take it upon my account; and am very much oblig'd to you.
But here we are all in an uproar.

Well.
So they say, what's the matter?

Stan.
A Mutiny among the Slaves:
Oroonoko is at the head of 'em,
Our Governour is gone out with his rascally Militia against 'em,
What it may come to no body knows.

Well.

For my part, I shall do as well as the rest: but I'm
concern'd for my Sister, and Cozen, whom I expect in the Ship
from England.

Stan.

There's no danger of 'em.

Well.

I have a thousand pounds here, in Gold and Jewels,
for my Cozens use, that I wou'd more particularly take care of:
'tis too great a summ to venture at home; and I wou'd not have
her wrong'd of it: therefore, to secure it, I think my best way
will be, to put it into your keeping.

Stan.

You have a very good opinion of my honesty.

[Takes the Purse and Casket.
Well.

I have indeed, if any thing shou'd happen to me, in
this bustle, as no body is secure of accidents, I know you will
take my Cozen into your protection and care.

Stan.

You may be sure on't.

Well.

If you hear she is dead, as she may be, then I desire you
to accept of the Thousand Pound, as a Legacy, and Token of
my Friendship; my Sister is provided for.

Stan.

Why, you amaze me: but you are never the nearer
dying, I hope, for makeing your Will?

Well.

Not a jot; but I love to be before-hand with Fortune.
If she comes safe; this is not a place for a single Woman,
you know;

Pray see her marryed as soon as you can.

Stan.

If she be as handsom as her Picture, I can promise her
a Husband.

Well.

If you like her, when you see her, I wish nothing so
much as to have you marry her your self.

Stan.

From what I have heard of her, and my Engagements
to you, it must be her Fault, if I don't:

I hope to have her from your own Hand.

Well.
And I hope to give her to you, for all this.

Stan.
Ay, ay, hang these melancholy Reflections.
Your Generosity has engag'd all my Services.

Well.
I always thought you worth making a Friend.

Stan.

You shan't find your good Opinion thrown away upon
me: I am in your Debt, and shall think so as long as I live.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Enter on one side of the Stage Oroonoko, Aboan, with the Slaves, Imoinda with a Bow and Quiver, the Women, some leading, others carrying their Children upon their Backs.
Oro.
The Women, with their Children, fall behind.
Imoinda you must not expose your self:
Retire, my Love: I almost fear for you.

Imo.
I fear no Danger: Life, or Death, I will enjoy with you.

Oro.
My Person is your Guard.

Abo.

Now, Sir, blame your self: if you had not prevented my

cutting his Throat, that Coward there had not discover'd us;
He comes now to upbraid you.

Enter on the other side Governour, talking to Hottman, with his Rabble.
Gov.
This is the very thing I would have wisht.
Your honest Service to the Government
[To Hottman.
Shall be rewarded with your Liberty.

Abo.
His honest Service! call it what it is,
His Villany, the Service of his Fear:
If he pretends to honest Services,
Let him stand out, and meet me, like a Man.

[Advancing.
Oro.
Hold, you: And you who come against us, hold;
I charge you in a general good to all,
And wish I cou'd command you, to prevent
The bloody Havock of the murdering Sword.
I wou'd not urge Destruction uncompell'd:
But if you follow Fate, you find it here.
The Bounds are set, the Limits of our Lives:
Between us lyes the gaping Gulph of Death,
To swallow all: who first advances—

[Enter the Capt. with his Crew.
Capt.
Here, here, here they are, Governour:
What! seize upon my Ship!
Come, Boys, fall on—

[Advancing first, Oroonoko kills him.
Oro.
Thou art fall'n indeed. Thy own Blood be upon thee.

Gov.
Rest it there: he did deserve his Death.
Take him away.
[the Body remov'd.
You see, Sir, you and those mistaken Men
Must be our Witnesses, we do not come
As Enemies, and thirsting for your Blood.
If we desir'd your Ruin, the Revenge
Of our Companions Death, had pusht it on.
But that we over-look, in a Regard
To common Safety, and the publick Good.

Oro.
Regard that publick good: draw off your Men,
And leave us to our Fortune: We're resolv'd.

Gov.
Resolv'd, on what? your Resolutions

Are broken, overturn'd, prevented, lost:
What Fortune now can you raise out of 'em?
Nay, grant we shou'd draw off, what can you do?
Where can you move? What more can you resolve?
Unless it be to throw your selves away.
Famine must eat you up, if you go on.
You see, our Numbers cou'd with Ease compel
What we request: And what do we request?
Only to save your selves?

[The Women with their Children gathering about the Men.
Oro.
I'le hear no more.

Women.
Hear him, hear him. He takes no care of us.

Gov.
To those poor wretches who have been seduc'd,
And led away, to all, and every one,
We offer a full Pardon—

Oro.
Then fall on.

[Preparing to Engage.
Gov.
Lay hold upon't, before it be too late,
Pardon and Mercy.

[The Women clinging about the Men, they leave Oroonoko, and fall upon their Faces crying out for Pardon.
Slaves.
Pardon, Mercy, Pardon.

Oro.
Let 'em go all: now, Governour, I see,
I own the Folly of my Enterprise,
The Rashness of this Action, and must blush
Quite thro' this Vail of Night, a whitely Shame,
To think I cou'd design to make those free,
Who were by Nature Slaves; Wretches design'd
To be their Masters Dogs, and lick their Feet.
Whip, whip 'em to the Knowledge of your Gods,
Your Christian Gods, who suffer you to be
Unjust, dishonest, cowardly, and base,
And give 'em your Excuse for being so.
I wou'd not live on the same Earth with Creatures,
That only have the Faces of their Kind:
Why shou'd they look like Men, who are not so?
When they put off their Noble Natures, for
The groveling qualities of down-cast Beasts,
I wish they had their Tails.

Abo.
Then we shou'd know 'em.

Oro.
We were too few before for Victory:
We're still enow to dye.

[To Imoinda, Aboan.
Blanford Enters.
Gov.
Live, Royal Sir;
Live, and be happy long on your own Terms:
Only consent to yield, and you shall have
What Terms you can propose, for you, and yours.

Oro.
Consent to yield! shall I betray my self?

Gov.
Alas! we cannot fear, that your small Force,
The Force of two, with a weak Womans Arm,
Shou'd Conquer us. I speak in the regard
And Honour of your Worth, in my desire
And forwardness to serve so great a Man.
I wou'd not have it lie upon my Thoughts,
That I was the occasion of the fall
Of such a Prince, whose Courage carried on
In a more Noble Cause, wou'd well deserve
The Empire of the World.

Oro.
You can speak fair.

Gov.
Your Undertaking, tho' it wou'd have brought
So great a loss to us, we must all say
Was generous, and noble; and shall be
Regarded only as the Fire of Youth,
That will break out sometimes in Gallant So
We'll think it but the Natural Impulse,
A rash impatience of Liberty:
No otherwise.

Oro.
Think it what you will.
I was not born to render an Account
Of what I do, to any but my self.

[Blanford comes forward.
Blan.
I'm glad you have proceeded by fair means.
[To the Governour.
I came to be a Mediator.

Gov.
Try what you can work upon him.

Oro.
Are you come against me too?

Blan.
Is this to come against you?
[Offering his Sword to Oroon.
Unarm'd to put my self into your Hands?
I come, I hope, to serve you.

Oro.
You have serv'd me;
I thank you for't: And I am pleas'd to think
You were my Friend, while I had need of one:
But now 'tis past; this farewell; and be gone.

[Embraces him.
Blan.
It is not past, and I must serve you still.
I wou'd make up these Breaches, which the Sword
Will widen more; and close us all in Love.

Oro.
I know what I have done, and I shou'd be
A Child to think they ever can Forgive:
Forgive! Were there but that, I wou'd not live
To be Forgiven: Is there a Power on Earth,
That I can ever need forgiveness from?

Blan.
You sha' not need it.

Oro.
No, I wonnot need it.

Blan.
You see he offers you your own Conditions,
For you, and yours.

Oro.
I must Capitulate?
Precariously Compound, on stinted Terms,
To save my Life?

Blan.
Sir, he Imposes none.
You make 'em for your own Security.
If your great Heart cannot descend to treat,
In adverse Fortune, with an Enemy:
Yet sure, your Honour's safe, you may accept
Offers of Peace, and Safety from a Friend.

Gov.
He will rely on what you say to him:
[To Blanford.
Offer him what you can, I will confirm,
And make all good: Be you my Pledge of Trust.

Blan.
I'le answer with my Life for all he says.

Gov.
Ay, do, and pay the Forfeit if you please.

[Aside.
Blan.
Consider, Sir, can you consent to throw
That Blessing from you, you so hardly found,
[Of Imoinda.
And so much valu'd once?

Oro.
Imoinda! Oh!
'Tis She that holds me on this Argument

Of tedious Life: I cou'd resolve it soon,
Were this curst Being only in Debate.
But my Imoinda struggles in my Soul:
She makes a Coward of me: I Confess
I am afraid to part with Her in Death:
And more afraid of Life to lose Her here.

Blan.
This way you must lose her, think upon
The weakness of her Sex, made yet more weak
With her Condition, requiring Rest,
And soft Indulging Ease, to nurse your Hopes,
And make you a glad Father.

Oro.
There I feel a Father's Fondness, and a Husband's Love.
They seize upon my Hart, strain all its strings,
To pull me to 'em, from my stern resolve.
Husband, and Father! All the melting Art
Of Eloquence lives in those softning Names.
Methinks I see the Babe, with Infant Hands,
Pleading for Life, and begging to be born:
Shall I forbid his Birth? Deny him Light?
The Heavenly Comforts of all-cheering Light?
And make the Womb the Dungeon of his Death?
His Bleeding Mother his sad Monument?
These are the Calls of Nature, that call loud,
They will be heard, and Conquer in their Cause:
He must not be a Man, who can resist 'em.
No, my Imoinda! I will venture all
To save thee, and that little Innocent:
The World may be a better Friend to him,
Than I have found it. Now I yield my self:
[Gives up his Sword.
The Conflict's past, and we are in your Hands.

[Several Men get about Oronooko, and Aboan, and seize 'em.
Gov.
So you shall find you are: Dispose of them,
As I commanded you.

Blan.
Good Heaven forbid! You cannot mean—

Gov.
This is not your Concern.
[To Blanford who goes to Oroonoko.
I must take care of you.

[To Imoinda.

Imo.
I'm at the end
Of all my Care: Here I will die with him.

[Holding Oroonoko.
Oro.
You shall not force her from me.

[he holds her.
Gov.
Then I must
[they force her from him.
Try other means, and Conquer Force by Force:
Break, cut off his Hold, bring her away.

Imo.
I do not ask to Live, kill me but here.

Oro.
O Bloody Dogs! Inhumane Murderers.

[Imoinda forct out of one Door by the Governour, and others. Oroonoko and Aboan hurried out of another.
[Exeunt Omnes.